That Moment
by AKA DD
Summary: Dean essentially shot himself in Skin. Here are his thoughts just before and right after he pulls the trigger.


DISCLAIMER: I don't own Supernatural.

A/N: This is a glimpse into what Dean Winchester was thinking right before he shot himself in Skin. Or at least, my first attempt at delving into Dean's head.

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Title: THAT MOMENT

Spoiler: SKIN

Stand-alone

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There was _that_ moment.

Always _that_ moment just before he pulled the trigger. It was that moment when the thoughts in his head all dulled to a single roar, and the only thing that flashed clearly in his mind was the one word: _killer_.

Sometimes, he would smirk at that moment, knowing full well that being a hunter ultimately meant he was a killer, too.

Sometimes, he downright took satisfaction in that moment. He was a killer of monsters, and he was proud of that distinction and legacy.

But sometimes, he just felt empty, right before his finger curled around that trigger. It was moments like those when he knew that sometimes, not all the bad guys had started out that way. They were just a result of their circumstances.

And that was why, for once—in _that_ moment—Dean Winchester had actually been afraid to pull the trigger. He had held his breath and hesitated for an extra second.

But he did it. And just like he did everything else, he did it with a bang.

Shutting his mental eye, he fired his weapon, like a reflex reaction, not allowing his mind to take part in the process. He felt the jerk and the shock of the discharge reverberate through his arm. He felt the automatic click of his gun as another bullet fitted itself into the chamber from the mag. With that recognizable feel of readiness in his hand, he pulled the trigger again.

He watched as the two consecutive bullets found their mark. With a sickening thud and the sound of tearing flesh, the bullets propelled themselves into and through the man. He flew against a wall, carried by the force of those close-range bullets, and fell into a dead heap on some furniture.

It was then that Dean walked up to the dead man, and stared down at the lifeless face, an expression of horror and shock frozen onto it in death.

Dean clenched his jaw in revulsion. It was a face identical to his own.

He swallowed painfully as he stared into identical, but lifeless hazel green eyes. There was something sickening at just having killed himself—and being able to look down at his own dead body. He felt bile course its way up his chest and throat, tasted it in the back of his mouth, but held it back. He wouldn't show Sam or anyone else his fear and panic. He didn't want to acknowledge it himself.

Oh, Dean knew that this _other _Dean was nothing more than a shapeshifter. He was a monster and an anomaly. A supernatural being that had chosen to hurt innocent people—had almost strangled Sam. As a killer—no, _hunter_—of such creatures, Dean knew that he had no choice but to pull the trigger.

But in _that_ moment, there had been a different flash in his mind. In that moment when all his thoughts fell silently into the background, a voice had whispered: _That's you, Dean._

And it had scared him. It had terrified him to think that _he_ might be that monster. For a second, as his finger tightened around the tiny trigger, he had felt like one. And he had been afraid. More afraid of anything else that he had seen in his lifetime.

Because not all bad guys started out evil. They were a result of circumstance.

Dean narrowed his eyes coldly as he caught sight of his necklace hanging limply around the dead guy's neck. He yanked it away, more forcefully than he intended, and the chain snapped. He wasn't a monster. He wasn't there…yet. He was still Dean Winchester, and he was gonna hold on to his skin…and identity for as long as he could.

And that included his necklace.

He smirked grimly at his dead body, and turned his attention to Sam. He nodded slowly, knowingly at his brother.

They both understood that being a hunter was a thin line from being a killer.

And maybe one day, Dean Winchester would really find himself with two bullet holes in his heart. But today wasn't the day. And for that, he had a smirk. How many times does a guy get to kill himself and walk away from it, anyway?


End file.
